Sea of Hidden Dragon
by Shiraume
Summary: The empire stands at the brink of a civil war. The Emperor is old, his chosen heir but three years of age. The Empress, an imperial princess by birth, has chosen a different heir. Each looks to the powerful dominions within the empire to support their respective claims, the Emperor to Hyoutei and the Empress to Rikkai. To this troubled sea Seishun returns, newly victorious...
1. Book I Troubled Sea, Ch 01

_The empire stands at the brink of a civil war._

_The Emperor is old, his chosen heir but three years of age. The Empress, an imperial princess by birth, has chosen a different heir. Each looks to the powerful dominions within the empire to support their respective claims. While the Emperor singles out Hyoutei for regency, the Empress seeks to sway Rikkai to her side._

_And to this troubled sea returns Seishun, newly victorious from a campaign, its general a rising star in the empire – and a potential new player in the oncoming storm._

* * *

NaNoWriMo Project for 2012 and 2013. Total word count is ~101K at this time. Pseudo-historical AU set in vaguely Far Eastern (China/Korea/Japan) culture. M/R rating for adult content. Drama, romance and...drama. Also action because tennis is basically martial arts equivalent in TeniPuri anyway. And more politics than you can shake a stick at.

...Yeah, I'll come up with better notes later.

* * *

**SEA OF HIDDEN DRAGON**

**와룡장해 :: 臥龍藏海**

** _by_ _Shiraume_**

[11/2012 & 11/2013]

**BOOK I: TROUBLED SEA**

_Chapter 01_

[4/18/2014 Version]

Golden dragons twisted over amber sky of silk. Long sleeve trailed over thick comforter as an aged hand swept over brows as white as the sheets underneath. The crease between the fine brows relaxed minutely, only to spasm violently in pain a heartbeat later.

"Promise me..."

The voice was so faint; it took straining of all senses to make out the words. The hand that rose from the bed, trailing a white sleeve embroidered with red-crowned cranes, was as pale as snow, nearly translucent even in the dim light of the room. Her thin hand was tenderly cradled with both hands as the Emperor, his aged face lined with grief, bent lower, intent on catching every whisper that escaped her bloodless lips. "Anything. Anything under the heaven."

"You'll...protect my son...won't you?" Breaths were drawn in painful gasps as the words were spoken. The woman's ashen brows drew closer, chest constricting with weak coughs. She was beautiful, as wasted and gaunt with sickness as she was. The Emperor tightened his hands around hers, willing the fit to subside. "Please," she struggled to continue, through the increasingly erratic breaths, forcing out each word. "Your Majesty, please. Protect...protect my son."

"He is my only son," the Emperor promised her. "I will protect him with my life."

The fever-bright eyes swept over the Emperor's face, which was careworn and lined with years, to the feathery-white strands interwoven with dark hair, turning his head pale grey. Despite the strength of his voice and his mien, the Emperor was old. Another face flashed in her thoughts, younger than the Emperor's, handsome and cold, too strong-featured to be beautiful, but with strength in her fierce gaze. She shuddered. "Please." Her voice grew fainter. Her eyes scrunched shut as another fresh spasm of pain wracked her body. "Please," she whispered without sound. Her chest heaved, but she could feel no air, no relief. Just chill in her limbs, burning in her throat, and fading grey before her eyes.

As the body on the bed shuddered and went still, a sob escaped the Emperor. A healer approached cautiously, but was waved back. After long moment of silence, the Emperor closed those unseeing eyes with his own hand. When the healer finally drew white sheet over the still face, the Emperor put his head in his hands and wept silently.

On the smooth golden coverlet, pairs of Mandarin ducks swam in ponds with lotus blossoms and nested under plum trees in full bloom.

* * *

"I hear Lady Yukimura has returned."

"So is it true? That she went on a retreat because of her health?"

"No, I heard..." Soft voice, lowered to a whisper. "..I heard she fled to the temple because she'd fallen in love with someone, and Lord Yukimura didn't approve."

"But Lord Yukimura would never have allowed her to go to the temple if that was the case."

"Which explains why she's back so soon, doesn't it? It would have taken someone really brave, courting Lady Yukimura. Everyone knows the Empress herself—"

"Quiet! It's Lady Yukimura!"

A hush fell. The women bowed respectfully as Lady Yukimura approached, which she returned gracefully. Without addressing anyone, Lady Yukimura continued toward to the innermost part of the palace, where the Empress resided. Scarcely before she was out of earshot, the whispers began afresh.

"—Could mean only one thing, when the Lady of Green Pavilion passed away last week—"

"Poor little prince. Losing his mother robs him of his last protector. No one else would dare, not when the Empress opposes him."

"And Lord Yukimura is just the ally Empress needs. She will want to cement an alliance through marriage, don't you think?"

"But the Empress has no daughters."

"She has, however, two nephews left. You know, from her older sister, Princess Yoshiko."

"Then—"

"Most likely the Empress seeks marriage between one of her nephews and the Lady Yukimura – Lord Yukimura's only sister."

"But would Lord Yukimura agree? Even though they're the children of Princess Yoshiko, their father's status..."

"Especially after the scandal caused by Lady Fuji."

There were stifled giggles at the mention of the Lady Fuji. Fuji Yumiko. Princess Yoshiko's first-born. A peerless beauty widely nicknamed the Peony of the Empire, Lady Fuji had once been the pride and joy of the childless Empress. That was, until the young lady, then scarcely nineteen, eloped with a young poet to avoid an arranged marriage. Her flight was still a legend, passed on through quiet whispers along the corridors of the Inner Court. Although the younger nobles often looked at her story as that of an inspired romance, it was a source of great embarrassment to both the Empress and the Fuji family.

Heedless of the whispers and giggles behind her, Lady Yukimura passed through the gardens of the Inner Court, her heather-grey eyes firmly fixed forward. She noticed nothing of the beauty around her, the garden in full throes of the early summer. Tree peonies were in bloom, each more radiant than the last, but her eyes were blind to their loveliness. The birds sang in the trees and insects called, yet her ears were closed to their delight.

Her eyes never once flickered as she stopped outside the Empress's pavilion and waited to be announced. The doors opened and the attendants bowed as she entered. Then the doors closed behind her, swallowing her figure whole.

* * *

On the other side of the imperial palace, meticulously-attended garden sprawled between the Outer and Inner Court. Just outside the walls enclosing the garden, in a secluded corner of the Outer Court, a young man stood, his bow drawn. His eyes, which never moved from the target, were of startling blue color.

Fuji let another arrow fly, watching expressionlessly as it found its mark with unerring accuracy, splitting its predecessor in half. With practiced motion, he notched another arrow and lifted his bow, drawing back the bowstring in one smooth movement. On the target were three split arrows and one whole one, and if he had anything to say about it, there would be four split arrows in a moment.

A bird called sharply, and the sound of wings, close enough to flutter feathers about him, startled Fuji. "Ah—" Fuji watched as his arrow – prematurely released – turned wide, flying in a wide parabola over the wall. Displeased frown tightened his lips, but next moment he shrugged. No one was in the garden at this hour, and he had free access throughout most of the imperial palace, even in the Inner Court. He could easily walk over and look for his arrow at leisure. With his bow in hand, Fuji walked through the open gateway to the garden, where the tree peonies were in full bloom.

* * *

A hand reached out to touch a perfect peony blossom, strangely sensuous even in its pure white beauty. The next instant, an arrow whistled just under his hand, piercing the peony blossom in the center. He shook the arrow clear of the shattered petals and examined it. The arrow bore an unfamiliar personal design on its shaft, its tail adorned with blue feather of a kingfisher. He did not recognize it, but there weren't many people who could practice archery in the palace grounds. Assuming, of course, the owner wanted it back.

Just then, a voice called, breaking him out of his reverie. He headed to the western gate, toward the caller. And as he moved away, something sparkled as it dropped soundlessly to the ground.

When Fuji came through the northern gate, the garden was empty. Fuji cast his glance all around, seeking his lost arrow. As he walked down the path, a flash of color caught his eyes. Amidst the ruin of white petals scattered on the ground lay a small jade carving in the shape of a dragon. Fuji bent down to retrieve the pendant, noting its beautiful blue-green shade and blue silk cord with ornate knot. The spotlessly even color and flawless quality of the stone told him the jade was of the highest grade, and the owner must want it back. Resolved to ask around later, Fuji tucked it into his robe, and resumed his search for the lost arrow.

A strong wind swept across the garden, scattering the peony petals and billowing them upward, sweeping the entire garden in white.

* * *

"_You_ lost an arrow? You? Heir to one of the Empire's Shitennou, the great-grandson of the Divine Archer himself? "

Fuji gave him a reproachful look. "I was distracted."

"Obviously." Atobe leaned on one hand, studying him. "So? You can't possibly be asking me to come and help you look for it."

"I've already looked through the whole garden. I think someone took it. That's why I came to see you."

Atobe blinked, then straightened, his movement meticulous and slow. "Let me get this straight," he said each word measured and even. "You want me to find out who took your arrow?"

Fuji shrugged, his usual smile an inscrutable mask on his face.

"Me, Atobe Keigo, head of the Atobe clan and the acting Lord of Hyoutei, Chief Minister of Ceremonies, search for the culprit behind a missing arrow? Besides which – it's an arrow, for crying out loud. You have plenty left and can always have more of them made."

"Well," Fuji said with admirable gravity. "I thought you of all people would be able to find the culprit."

"And why would that be?"

Fuji held out his hand, something blue-green and shiny on his palm. "He left behind a clue."

Atobe took the pendant from Fuji's hand and examined it. It was an intricately-carved design of a dragon, with blue-green jade body and flashing red rubies for eyes. A rare color, more deep blue than the usual green, but stone was of the top quality without any flaws or unevenness in shade. The silk cord and tassel were worn with repeated use, but it was clear the owner had taken excellent care of it. Near the tip of the dragon's tail was a tiny design of a six-pointed flower? snowflake? with a pair of characters at the center, so small that naked eyes could make no sense of them. Atobe frowned, turning the pendant in his hand. The seal design looked familiar. In fact, the whole pendant looked strangely familiar, somehow.

"I've seen it before," Atobe said, turning the pendant over in his hand again. "The seal design. But I can't quite place it. Yet."

"That's why I came to you. If anyone, you would recognize it."

Atobe made a dismissive sound, already busy eliminating possible choices in his head. "I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Keigo."

Atobe's head snapped up, only to come face to face with Fuji's sweet, sweet smile. His brow twitched in annoyance. Of course; Atobe was a self-proclaimed expert in heraldry, thoroughly acquainted with the history of every notable family in the empire. And he would never be able to leave this one alone, because to admit he didn't know who owned this pendant would be admitting defeat. And Atobe Keigo never accepted defeat.

"In my spare time," Atobe drawled. "Unlike you, affairs of the state occupy my waking hours."

"Mm." Fuji's attention was already wandering, eyes gliding over the papers on Atobe's desk with disinterest. "Does this mean you won't be coming around for dinner this week?"

Atobe was tempted to refuse outright, but hesitated. He loved visiting Fuji's house. Fuji's great-grandfather's mansion, to be more exact. And Fuji knew it.

"If you insist, I might drop by."

Fuji smiled, knowing and mischievous. "Of course." He rose to go, fingers giving the dragon pendant a last caress, which made Atobe twitch in annoyance. An unnecessary reminder – his mind would be preoccupied with it all afternoon. He had always been pathologically unable to leave a puzzle alone.

Just at the door of the office, Fuji paused. "By the way, you have your dates backward. The harvest ceremony should take place two nights before the circle dance, which should come last, on the night of the full moon. You might want to double-check the calendar."

Reflexively Atobe looked down at his papers, and realized Fuji was right. Before he could retort he'd have figured that out on his own, Fuji had already disappeared.

Cursing all the smart-mouthed imperial brats in general, Atobe reached for the almanac.

* * *

Upon her return, Lady Yukimura was informed that her brother was waiting in her quarters. With a suppressed sigh, she headed back to the west wing of the main building, which was set aside for her use. Her attendants were waiting anxiously outside her own room.

"Lord Yukimura has been waiting for nearly two hours," murmured her chief handmaiden. "He requests that you join him as soon as you return."

"As if I can do otherwise, when he waits for me in my own room?" She gave the handmaiden a sharp look. "Next time, do not allow him or anyone else in my room when I am not present."

"But—"

"Do you serve me? Or do you serve my brother?" Lady Yukimura cut her off, relentless. "I have given you my orders. I expect you to obey. How is not my concern."

After a moment under Lady Yukimura's icy gaze, the chief handmaiden quailed, bowing her head. "I will do so in the future, my lady."

A short nod, and Lady Yukimura faced the doors, which other attendants hastily opened for her. Without looking back she stepped inside her richly decorated room. Her chief handmaiden followed her after taking a tray from one of the maids, which she then set down on the table. She bowed, and retreated to stand by the door with her head respectfully lowered.

Lady Yukimura strode in without sparing single glance towards the uninvited guest who sat at her table. She briskly made her way to her mirror instead, sitting down at her dressing table. Methodically, she took off her necklace of jade beads and the delicately layered leaves of gold that hung from her ears. Next, she plucked the bracelets and rings from her hands, and then the jeweled ornaments from her hair, pins and sticks and combs with delicate flowers and bird motifs, each made of gold and studded with precious gemstones. When the last of the ornaments was gone from her hair, her brother, who had been watching her patiently, finally spoke.

"What did the Empress say?"

Her lips tightened to a thin line, and Lady Yukimura took her time tucking away her jewelry and ornaments in lacquered wooden boxes. Each box had its glossy surface inlaid with mother-of-pearl in delicate, iridescent silver lines. Just when her brother was about to speak again, she closed the lid of her jewelry box with a sharp tap of wood on wood. "Exactly what you expected her to say, I presume."

"You are angry with me." It was not a question.

"I don't like people entering my room without my permission," she said blandly, deliberately missing his point.

Her brother's lips quirked wryly. "That, too. But you do realize why I did it, don't you?"

Lady Yukimura's thin fingers dug into the wooden surface. "You made it clear that you found him unworthy of our name." She raised her eyes to glare at the image of her brother in the mirror. "Does it matter now? I've returned, just as you wished. And I'll marry whoever the Empress orders me to marry, just as you wish."

Her brother's reply was preceded by a gentle sigh. "_He_ made it clear that he was unworthy of your love."

Lady Yukimura whipped around to face her brother, fury kindling a flash of lightning in her eyes. "You would have killed him," she retorted, her anger like a spear of ice in her words.

"If he loved you, he should have risked it," he said, and his voice was colder now, flint and steel underneath the silk. Her eyes snapped to his, surprise turning to a reluctant understanding. Her brother's eyes softened in response, becoming kinder. "I would have, for you."

_And would you have spared him if he risked his life to fight you for me?_ She swallowed the question, the anguish like sharp sliver of glass lodged in her throat. It wasn't _fair_, to expect someone to risk his life for what he wanted. But her brother also spoke the truth: _he_ would have done it.

"You cannot expect everyone in the world to be Yukimura Seiichi," she said at last, all of her earlier anger drained from her voice.

Her brother smiled without mirth. "No. But I expect everyone in the world to fight for what they want. That they will not – it isn't my concern."

She closed her eyes, drawing a long, slow breath, and released it. Letting go wasn't easy – it was never in her nature, or her brother's, for that matter – but necessary. At any rate, it was too late to turn back now. "The Empress said she would like to speak with you in person," she started without preamble. "And that a closer tie between our clan and the imperial family could prove mutually beneficial."

"In those words?"

She gave him a look. "Of course not. She's of imperial blood through and through. You know she can talk around in circles with the best of them at court."

"Has she hinted who she has in mind as your match?"

"There aren't that many options," she pointed out glibly. "But not Prince Masara, in any case."

Her brother raised an eyebrow.

"Clearly you have yet to give her sufficient encouragement." Her voice was a shade colder. She knew her brother for all his talk had never committed himself or his people to the Empress's cause. In turn, Empress would never offer such high stakes, not without extracting more definitive promise of a return. "Although if she intends to raise the young prince to the throne, someone of imperial blood would be preferable."

A derisive snort answered her. "Too bad Atobe doesn't have a daughter or sister handy, then."

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual," she replied without missing a beat.

"The Emperor has clearly marked Atobe as the regent for his heir. Or one so young and inexperienced would never have been appointed as the Chief Minister of Ceremonies."

"He performs his duties without fault, I hear."

"His current duties, perhaps. But he's not fit to lead the empire. If the Emperor thinks he can curtail his wife's ambition for regency using Atobe, he's become senile."

Despite herself, Lady Yukimura couldn't hold back a small smile. The Atobe heir had risen to the position of clan head at an unprecedented age after his father made an abrupt departure from public life to enter the temple. It wasn't long before Atobe also took over as the acting lord for his domain. And less than a year after he became the acting Lord of Hyoutei, the Emperor appointed him to the position of Chief Minister of Ceremonies in a bold move that shocked the whole court. However, as a side effect of his double duties as well as his imperial lineage, Atobe Keigo never served his time in the military, which was required for every noble-born young man in the empire. Atobe's deficiency in that area had long since been the source of disdain from her openly militant-minded brother.

"I'm sure you and the Empress will have a lot to talk about, then." Her voice warmed, though it was a far cry from the affection they used to share not a year ago.

"When does she want to see me?"

"This week, if you can. She said at your earliest convenience, and I rather think she meant it."

"She already has a bridegroom in mind, then."

Lady Yukimura shrugged. "I assume so, since she summoned me as soon as I returned."

"I'll go pay my respects to the Empress in three days. I've too much to do in the meantime."

"And it wouldn't do to jump at her every whim?" She couldn't help a trickle of acid in her tone.

Her brother was unfazed. "Of course. I will answer on my own terms, never another's. You know that."

"A luxury not many can afford." Lady Yukimura rose from her seat, suddenly feeling fatigued. "I would like to retire," she said.

"Of course." Her brother rose to his feet fluidly, and came to kiss her cheek as was his wont. She turned her head, however, and did not look at him. Just because she accepted his argument, it didn't mean she'd forgiven him. And deep-seated anger was something her brother understood very well. As she expected, there was no hint of reproach in her brother's calm expression. "I'll leave you to your rest," he said softly, then stepped away. She bowed her head with the exact amount of respect that decorum demanded – and not one whit more.

She did not watch her brother leave.

* * *

"How did the audience go?"

Tezuka turned his head minutely, in wordless acknowledgment of his friend's presence. "Fine. We've been commended for our success."

"And the Emperor?" Green eyes turned troubled. "I'd heard unsettling rumors regarding his health. It's been said ever since the Lady of the Green Pavilion's untimely passing, His Majesty has been inconsolable."

"His grief is deep," he allowed, "but the Emperor is still very much himself."

Oishi nodded, and the two of them walked side by side in silence for a while. "No other orders regarding the current campaign?"

"I am to stay in the capital. Besides that, none."

"Well, we've all but wrapped up. The actual terms of the peace treaty are the diplomats' worry, not ours. Speaking of which, do we know who's going to be sent this time?"

"The Emperor did not say."

The curt replies would have bothered someone less intimately acquainted with Tezuka. For his part, Oishi merely smiled. "I guess it doesn't affect our work. Don't worry about the front. You know we can handle it. You've done the hard part already."

"We did it together."

Oishi's eyes softened with warmth. "Yes." There was a lot of pride and affection behind the answer. "I'll be busy running errands in the city tomorrow, but I will be returning to the camp the day after. Do you have any message for the rest of the team?"

"Keep up the good work," Tezuka said promptly. "And don't get careless."

Oishi chuckled. "Of course. By the way, what's that?"

Tezuka looked down at his sword, where he'd tied the errant arrow to its sheath. "I found it in the garden."

"You found it?" Incredulity crept into Oishi's voice. "This is the imperial palace. Who practices archery here besides the Emperor? And he hasn't drawn a bow in years. Both of the princes are too young to have personalized arrows, aren't they?" Oishi's sharp eyes had noted the personalized design of the arrow – a rare prize awarded for particularly exceptional performances in the imperial archery contest. Even within the vast empire, those granted the honor were few in number.

Tezuka shrugged. "I'll find out later."

"Oh, speaking of later. I ran into Lord Tachibana. He requests that you visit him. To celebrate your victory, he said." A shrewd gleam entered the wide green eyes. "I think he was hoping you'd come stay with him at his house for a few days while you're in the capital. You know – when you can spare time away from the Seishun mansion?"

"Ah." Lord Tachibana of Fudomine, like most of the dominion lords, had a private house within the capital city in addition to the mansion provided for the use of each dominion's representatives. Although the current Lord of Seishun, Yamato Yuudai, likewise possessed his own house in the capital, he had a penchant of spending most of his time at the Seishun mansion whenever Tezuka was around. And Yamato's face was one Tezuka could live without having to see every day. Particularly given what Yamato had been pestering him about lately. Tezuka rather suspected he would end up taking Tachibana up on the offer. "Thank you, Oishi."

"You're welcome."


	2. Book I Troubled Sea, Ch 02

Minor edits may become necessary. This monster is choke full of politics already, and nobody likes infodump. Ayeee. x_x

* * *

_Chapter 02_

[5/25/2014 version]

An ocean needs but one dragon resting in its waters. The heaven accepts but one dragon's ascent to its hallowed domain. An empire's throne likewise allows but one sovereign.

But the empire's dragon was old now. His chosen heir was but three years of age – at which age a dragon was nothing but a seahorse. The old dragon could not hope to protect his young until the babe ascended to the throne. Not when every passing day leeched away the dragon's strength.

At the old dragon's side sat a phoenix, ripe in years and in full splendor of her strength and beauty. Her flashing eyes missed nothing. Her wings remained sleekly folded, and her gaze fixed on the ground in the semblance of a dutiful wife. But her wings were strong and itched to spread, to test themselves. Her ambition was yet untouched by weariness of age. And the tool of her ambition – a bright-eyed tiger-cub with small but sharp fangs – was a young but intelligent boy of twelve.

The sea surged uneasily, as if sensing the unease spreading over the land. Rising wind and darkening sky heralded coming of a storm.

The head beneath the crown rested fitfully. It had never known peace since assuming the crown, but now, more than ever, it sensed the waves from a troubled sea.

* * *

When Tezuka arrived at the Yamato residence, he was unsurprised to note his arrival had been anticipated: there was someone waiting for him at the front gate.

"Welcome, General Tezuka! Shall I escort you in?"

For one moment, Tezuka stared expressionlessly at the man in black robe, who'd addressed the polite inquiry in his direction. "Lord Yamato," he said in greeting.

Yamato chuckled. "Hey, you recognized me even without my glasses."

Tezuka hadn't expected Yamato to be answering his own door. And Yamato's new appearance, what with bright red-brown hair in messy curls and conspicuous absence of his dark glasses, was equally unexpected. However, the smile that curved those thin lips was the same even without the glasses to hide the gleam of mischief in the grey eyes. "It's been a while, Lord Yamato. I'm glad to find you well."

"Yeah. How have you been?" Before Tezuka could answer, the smile turned to a playful grin. "Stupid question. Busy kicking asses and winning us our war, what else? So? What did the old fox want, other than shaking hands with our hero?"

In the whole empire, Yamato Yuudai was the only one who could get away with a comment like that even in the imperial presence. Eccentric, whimsical, and well-nigh incomprehensible to the vast majority of people, Yamato was nevertheless a huge favorite of the Emperor. His frank manners and idiosyncratic yet undeniably penetrating moments of wisdom had endeared him to the old monarch, although the more militant-minded factions at the court openly derided him as a lily-handed philosopher.

Oddly enough, the Empress also favored Yamato. Yamato was one of the very few things that the imperial couple agreed on.

"His Majesty commends Seishun for its efforts in the current campaign, and desires me to remain in the capital."

"Ho~?" Yamato's grey eyes regarded him closely. "So where are you planning to stay? Seishun dominion mansion or at Tachibana's? You know you're always welcome to stay at my house." The last was accompanied with a beguiling friendliness Tezuka trusted not one bit.

"I thought it best not to burden you with my prolonged stay."

Yamato's mouth twitched. "So you came to beg off staying at my house right off the bat, eh? I figured as much. That's fine. You can stay wherever you feel comfortable. You and Tachibana go a long way back, after all. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on. Come on, then. We can have a toast or two, and you can be done with courtesy-calls for the day."

Yamato's house reflected his eccentric tastes. Most of those who visited would only see the mountains of books and scrolls, pieces of art utterly unrelated to each other in terms of style or period, odds and ends of foreign origins, and the likes.

Very few knew about Yamato's carefully-maintained training room full of weapons. Although Tezuka had bested Yamato at a tender age of fifteen, he knew how much time and effort Yamato had put into his military training. That Yamato never had a chance to put his training to good use was unfortunate, but it did not diminish the respect Tezuka had for him.

"I'd ask to spar with you," Yamato said as if reading his mind, "but I don't think there's any point now."

There had been rumors. Even at the war-torn front, the rumors of Yamato's worsening injury had been difficult to suppress. Yamato led them to a beautifully decorated room that overlooked the garden, where a bottle of expensive rice liquor and two translucent porcelain cups awaited them. Yamato poured the liquor for them both, which Tezuka received respectfully with both hands, and toasted him. "Hail, conquering hero," Yamato said, and his words were merely playful, not ironic.

Tezuka inclined his head, then respectfully turned away before he brought the cup to his lips, waiting decorously until Yamato took the first sip before doing the same. Yamato was using his left hand, not right, and it was difficult not to notice it. A small stretch of silence passed while they finished their first cup. Before his host could move, Tezuka reached for the bottle himself and poured the liquor for Yamato, his movement practiced and graceful.

"I guess you all heard it by now," Yamato said with a wry twist of his mouth. "About my arm."

"What does your physician say?"

"That he's done all he can, and it will only grow worse. It's a matter of time before I lose the use of my right hand entirely."

Tezuka's hand paused, holding the cup still. Yamato smiled at him, a hint of regret mingling with resignation. Without a word, Yamato put down his cup and pulled up his right sleeve, exposing the ugly scar that marked the skin from elbow nearly to the wrist. "It _has_ gotten worse. I've been feeling it for years, now."

"I—" Tezuka pulled his eyes away from the scar with effort. "My sincerest condolences," he said finally, and meant it.

Yamato sighed.

"You know, it's funny. When I was young, I didn't care I got hurt. I cared I won." For Seishun. For the empire. Yamato didn't have to say it – Tezuka knew it too well. "It wasn't just that, either. I'd – do you remember when you defeated me? You were just fifteen then. And you reminded me of myself when I was your age." A laugh, but it was more sad than amused. "In more ways than one."

"You've always given your best for Seishun." The pause that followed, had it been anyone else, would have been called hesitation. "I've always found my inspiration in your example."

Yamato shook his head, his gaze wandering to Tezuka's left arm, and coming to a rest on the elbow. "Not always in the right things."

"You've helped me past even those."

Another sigh. "Seven years before our match, I'd been your age doing much the same thing, with much the same intention. But I went around doing it all wrong, you know. I don't want you to follow in my footsteps. Not in this. Or you'll find yourself exactly where I am today."

Tezuka frowned minutely. "If it's for Seishun—"

"Tezuka-kun." Yamato's voice was firm, but not unkind. "When I told you to become the support pillar of Seishun, that's not what I meant. Giving our best, yes. But we must also ensure we can continue to do so in our future." He gestured to his right arm. "I cannot lead, not with this arm. It leaves me unable to support Seishun. Or the Emperor. Which means—" A quick intake of breath, so fleeting that if Tezuka hadn't been watching, he'd have missed it. "—It is my duty as Seishun's leader to choose a successor who _can_."

Yamato's earnest grey eyes found his own, and Tezuka couldn't help the stillness that settled over his body. It was an honor, yes. But also a terrifying responsibility. But more than that, it would thrust him from the position of a military general to that of a courtier. As a courtier, he would need to remain here, in the capital, wrestling with the precarious politics of the court. No. This wasn't where he belonged. He belonged on the battlefield with his team, where things were at least simpler, even if not any easier.

"I do not believe I—"

"You don't get to have a choice in this, Tezuka-kun." Wry affection mingled with determination. "I am the Lord of Seishun, and I can only act in our best interest. So I cannot allow you to squirm out of this one. I know," he said, raising a hand to cut off a half-formed protest from Tezuka, "that this places you in a most difficult position. I know the old fox summoned you to take a good look at my successor, to see if he can use you or not. I also know the Emperor found you worthy. Now, I'm not saying you need to take part in this whole succession issue. Believe me, others of the court are doing enough of that already. But, we _are_ loyal subjects of the Emperor, and we cannot abandon him."

"Politics have never been my strength," Tezuka pointed out, but Yamato waved away the concern.

"Neither has it been your weakness. I've a hunch you'll be just fine. Now, I don't mean you should choose to side with the Emperor against the Empress. You don't need this kind of weight hanging on you, not when you need to watch our borders. But the empire cannot splinter into two. Not now, not when we're vulnerable. If nothing else, the current campaign showed us that much. Our empire, should it falter even for a moment, will be challenged. And if our weakness is tested now, we may not withstand the test."

The trouble surrounding imperial succession had sparked three years ago, when the Emperor's favorite concubine – the late Lady of Green Pavilion – gave birth to a much-desired son.

The Emperor had no other children save for two daughters from his first Empress, who passed away nineteen years ago. (It was a testament to the empire's decline that both his daughters were long since married to foreign monarchs. In times of strength, the empire's princesses never married outside their own country.) But his current Empress had given him no children in their sixteen years of marriage. The Empress nonetheless was an imperial princess in her own right and had widespread support in the court. A year ago, the Empress had adopted her second cousin, Prince Masara, as her own son and heir. As the young prince was also second-cousin to the Emperor, it would only take adoption from the Emperor to allow him to take precedence over the baby prince. A procedure that the Emperor had pointedly ignored, keeping his own son as the heir apparent.

However, the recent death of the Lady of Green Pavilion left the baby prince under the uncertain protection of his aging father – a tempting vulnerability. In the meantime the Empress, younger and growing in strength, was gathering support within the court.

But all the while, their neighboring kingdom was also gathering power, steadily growing in strength and ambition. The invasion at the empire's western borders, which Tezuka had recently managed to suppress, was merely the latest one in a long string of such conflicts for the past decade or more. While the imperial court continued to splinter through internal strife, others cast increasingly worried glances at the foreign threats amassing around the empire.

"Give me some time to think about this." Tezuka didn't want any part of the succession debate. He knew – as many in the military arm of the government did – that the empire couldn't afford to take its eyes off their borders. But Yamato was right to point out any internal fracture could prove fatal.

Nonetheless, it was quite another to wonder whether _he_ could do anything about that.

"Alright. But don't take too long~ The Emperor gets impatient." A hint of seriousness entered Yamato's eyes. "And rightly so."

Tezuka inclined his head mutely in acceptance. Yamato smiled at him, his easy, careless manner returning to him as if the moment of gravity had never been. "Let's finish this bottle already. I've got another one I'm dying to try out. You're about the only one who can keep up with me, and you visit so rarely, Tezuka-kun."

* * *

"Yes?"

The shadow lurking at the door stilled. Sanada cast a cutting glance in that direction, a glint of impatience in his eyes. "You've been there for five minutes already. Either come in or go away. I have a lot of work to finish."

The door opened, and a tall, slender figure in green entered. A large square badge of silver pheasant decorated the front of his visitor's spring-green robe. "Yo. I see your instincts are as sharp as ever, Sanada."

"Can I help you?" Sanada persisted.

Shiraishi fiddled with the silver pheasant emblem embroidered in exquisite detail, and did not answer immediately. "So – I caught a glimpse of an imperial edict. It's not going to be released until next week, but – it's all finalized, huh? Yukimura's installation, I mean."

There was no reason to play dumb. "Yes," Sanada replied simply.

"Kinda...unprecedented, isn't it."

"Are you objecting?" Sanada glanced up at him, dark eyes forbidding, but not offended. "If you do, I suggest you take it elsewhere. I don't have the authority to gainsay what the council of Rikkai has decided and the Emperor approved."

"No, no, I'd be the last person to tell you Yukimura can't do justice to the position. In fact I know he's been de facto the Lord of Rikkai for a while now. It's just..." Shiraishi's eyes flickered to Sanada's. "I hear the Lady Yukimura visited the Empress yesterday."

"And?"

"And it's no secret, what the Empress intends. Is Yukimura really intending to get involved in all that?"

"Shiraishi." Sanada put down his brush carefully and stood. Shiraishi met his eyes squarely; they were nearly the same height, and Shiraishi wasn't an easy person to stare down even if that hadn't been the case. Nonetheless, Sanada gave it his best shot. "Are those your words or Atobe's?"

"Mine," Shiraishi replied steadily, making no attempt to evade or look away. "But I can't help thinking Atobe's right to be concerned. I won't deny what the Emperor is trying to do doesn't have much sense in it. But what the Empress is doing can split the empire into two factions. And now is really not the time for that. You should know that better than anybody else. So should Yukimura, for that matter."

"Yukimura's decisions are his own. They will be made in the best interests of Rikkai, and of the empire." Sanada paused, letting his words sink in. "Was that all?"

Shiraishi sighed. "Alright, I'll let it go. For now."

Sanada sat down, picking up his brush again. When Shiraishi did not take the hint to leave, he spoke again, his hand never pausing its motion. "I have work to do. I assume you do as well."

"Yeah." Shiraishi moved to exit the room, then paused at the door. "I don't play political partisanship, you know that. I hope Yukimura won't, either. Not even for the sake of Rikkai. The interests of the empire should be above even that."

Sanada did not answer. The only answer he _could_ give was already given. After a moment, Shiraishi excused himself, and left.

Only when he was quite sure Shiraishi was gone did Sanada stop writing. Just as well; he was running low on ink. He set the brush aside and took out his stone grinder and ink stick, and poured a few spoonfuls of water on the grinder. Usually, most of the high-ranking officials had this done by their attendants, but Sanada had always preferred to prepare his own ink. The steady motion of the ink stick grinding on the stone surface calmed him, and allowed him time to think.

Yukimura hadn't spoken to him about his plans regarding the Empress. That his sister visited the Empress was insignificant: nobody refused a summons from the imperial couple. But Shiraishi wasn't easily moved to worry. That Shiraishi of all people would echo Atobe's complaint – that Yukimura was becoming too political to benefit the empire – was enough to make him wonder if he shouldn't press Yukimura for more details.

Sanada finished with the ink, and picked up his brush again. He would speak to Yukimura when he returned in the evening. Until then, his time would be better spent concentrating on his work. Clearing his mind of all other thoughts and centering his focus was done with ease borne from practice, and Sanada turned to the next page and started writing again.

* * *

Despite his best intentions, Tezuka did have his share of courtesy calls to make. So it wasn't until Tezuka's third day in the imperial capital that he made it to the Tachibana residence. He was well-known by the household, and was quickly ushered to their best drawing room.

Tachibana wasn't long in joining him. His dark eyes instantly took on the expression of gladness upon seeing Tezuka. "Tezuka. Good to see you back."

"Tachibana," Tezuka greeted, rising. They clasped arms briefly but with warmth.

"Please. Sit." Tachibana did likewise, taking a chair facing him. "You look well. The front must be a better place than the reports make it out to be."

"No more than expected. I'm glad to see you well. How is your family?"

Tachibana grinned at the succinct description. "You'd say the same whether you were at the ninth heaven or the deepest circle of hell. And you know my family: they're the same."

Tezuka knew that by "family" Tachibana was actually including a handful of the closest members of his council. While many dominions often had council members at odds with each other, Fudomine had remained an exception ever since Tachibana became the lord. But then again, Fudomine's council was significantly smaller, befitting one of the smallest dominions.

Fudomine was a special dominion, created a hundred years ago for an imperial prince who took up the surname of Tachibana. However, as direct descendants of imperial lineage, the Tachibana clan was still accorded the highest honor, and their dominion wielded influence disproportionate to its size.

"An will be glad to hear you've returned safely. Are you planning to stay in the city for a while?"

"The Emperor desires it, yes."

"Ah." The smile that appeared on Tachibana's lips was of genuine pleasure. "Then I hope you will accept our hospitality for a few days while you remain in the capital."

"If it isn't too much trouble."

The ease with which Tezuka agreed was a clear indication how highly he regarded their friendship; the same offer from anyone else, even made with equal sincerity, would never have been so easily accepted. "Great. An will be thrilled. Is anyone else from your team staying, too?"

"No, just me. Oishi returned to camp this morning."

"As expected of you. There's been glowing reports of your team. Well, there's been glowing reports of everything, since you're our hero."

"Hardly." Tezuka's lips tightened. "We had the advantage of terrain this time. But I don't think it was a serious attempt on their part. It's too early to relax our guard."

Tachibana smiled at the ubiquitous reminder to stay on guard – Tezuka's favorite saying. The question that followed, however, was serious. "If it wasn't a serious attempt, what was it? They deployed three regiments. Nobody would waste that much manpower and resources on a whim."

"A test," Tezuka said shortly. "I said as much in my official report. I believe they were trying to gauge how we would respond."

"And how did we do?"

"Enough to check further attempts. For now. Beyond that, I cannot say. The empire's military strength isn't what it used to be fifty years ago. Or even twenty years ago."

"So you went all-out to crush them as quickly as possible. To discourage them." Tachibana's tone darkened with the grim assessment, which Tezuka didn't contradict. "Have we really come to that? Show of strength, like the roar of a toothless tiger?"

Tezuka's frown was thoughtful. "They've grown quite a bit in the last few decades. And we haven't. We still have strength to fight, Tachibana. But if they decide to capitalize on our weakness, it might become another prolonged warfare. Our best bet is to avoid that."

"Because a prolonged warfare will go worse with us than with them," Tachibana supplied readily. "And with the imperial family in the state it's in now..."

"The empire never quite recovered from the Ten Years' War." The cadence of Tezuka's words was slower, considering.

The Ten Years' War has started as a border dispute with the largest of the empire's neighbors thirty-four years ago. What should have been a simple and exceedingly commonplace trouble had lasted over a decade, and by the end of it, the empire had emerged short one rival kingdom and two new dominions. Instrumental to their victory was the ascent of a hero, one Echizen Nanjirou, who was now revered as one of the empire's Shitennou after the legendary Four Heavenly Kings who commanded the armies of the Jade Emperor, the ruler of all heaven.

On the surface it was a resounding victory for the empire. In truth, the loss of life and the lasting damage to the economy had been staggering. And then, seventeen years ago, two of the neighboring kingdoms who shared the empire's borders became one unified kingdom through marriage of their heirs, becoming the empire's top rival, initiating border conflicts every so often as if to test its own strength. Or perhaps to ensure that the empire wouldn't have a chance to recover in peace. There were quiet voices raising concerns regarding the empire's stagnating economy, its declining influence overseas, and waning military strength.

"What's done is done." Tachibana gave a quiet sigh. "That was before our time, at any rate. Now, I'm as concerned as you are about the state of our military, but..." His voice turned darker. "I'm even more concerned about the fact Yukimura is about to rise as the new Lord of Rikkai, and already dallying with the Empress."

"Yukimura?" Tezuka was genuinely surprised. "Unexpected, at least on his part."

"Atobe hasn't been complaining for nothing, you know. How long has it been since Yukimura's promotion? Yet already, the Department of Defense is full of his people. He was a brilliant commander on the field, but he's proving his worth even more as a politician. I wouldn't be surprised if the Empress is courting an alliance with him seriously."

"Yukimura has been acting as the Lord of Rikkai for some time. If he hasn't done anything yet, what makes you think he will now? He's the one who led the empire's army to victory eight years ago."

"He may not, as you say. But don't think the assumption of lordship is a small thing. It carries enormous symbolic significance, not only to Rikkai, but to the empire. And while I can't dispute his military records are unparalleled, I don't know if I can say with confidence that he places the welfare of the empire before that of Rikkai's. He's been lobbying aggressively to have all his people advance in the ranks. His action casts some doubt on his intentions."

"So Tezuka-san finally drops by, and you're already boring him with talks of politics, Onii-sama?"

The voice was light and playful. An, the young Lady Tachibana, approached and curtsied to the two men, who rose to meet her. "It's been a long time since your last visit, Tezuka-san. I'm so happy to see you back safely. I hope you'll do us the honor of joining us for lunch?"

"Thank you for your kind offer, Lady Tachibana. I accept with gratitude."

"Again with Lady Tachibana. Even though I've asked you many times to call me by my name." An's complaint did not carry much heat, as if she'd made it countless times before and didn't expect Tezuka to answer differently. To this, Tezuka inclined his head minutely, but did not comment. An smiled, and changed topic easily. "May I conduct you both to the dining room?" She glanced at her brother for confirmation. "I apologize for interrupting you, but I'd been waiting for half an hour in vain, and the food must be turning cold by now."

Tachibana nodded, fixing Tezuka with an apologetic look. "We'll talk more after lunch. You must be hungry. I should have remembered."

An flashed a brilliant, pleased smile at both of them, and turned to lead the way. The two of them followed, somber mood forgotten for the time being.


End file.
